Rise Up
by Arukewari
Summary: In which Draco catches Hermione reading a sex manual in the Restricted Section and years of suppressed emotions start tumbling out, leaving two teenagers reeling in the throes of first love at the turn of an imploding war. AU after HBP. DH. 7th year. M-Rated.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N A Hermione and Draco story with a little more realism. Something I would like to read myself.**

 **Summary:** **In which Malfoy catches Hermione reading a sex book in the Restricted Section and years of suppressed emotions start tumbling out, leaving two teenagers reeling in the throes of first love at the turn of an imploding war.**

 **Warning: This is canon until the end of the 6th book. I deviate with the 7th. Everyone comes back to Hogwarts as the war against Voldemort is brewing.**

 **Also will contain references to a slash pairing and scenes with rather graphic sex. Thus the M-rating.**

 **Inspired by the song 'Rise up' by Andra Day.**

* * *

 **Malfoy's POV - At the end of the day, I was still a Malfoy. She couldn't change that.**

* * *

Seeing the vague shadow in the Restricted Section, I rolled my eyes. Of course. Only Granger would be wandering about in the library at one in the morning. As much as I refused to sneak behind her like some naughty schoolboy, my innate lack of maturity urged to me to inch closer and see what she was doing before docking points.

"Are you reading a sex manual?" I said, overtly scandalised, a smirk spreading across my face. Granger jumped and swivelled to face the shadows. Her eyes narrowed; she didn't need to see me to recognise me. I knew it was due to years of bullying and emotional torture; not because she was secretly obsessed with me. I wish I could say the same for myself.

"Malfoy." Even as she spoke with that fierce pride characteristic of her voice, she couldn't stop the blush from staining the tip of her cheekbones. I leave the shadows to lean against the bookcase.

"You and Weasley taking the next step? How quaint."

I hoped all she could hear was cruel disdain and not crippling jealously. Apparently they had started dating at the start of our 7th year. My stomach crimped at the thought of the lumbering Gryffindor jackass laying in bed with the only woman who had kept my attention for 4 years – since that stunning punch in the face. The Yule Ball did not help.

"None of your business," Granger hissed, raising the book to place it back where it belonged.

"Come on, maybe I can help," I leered.

Of course, ideally, I would let her walk away. Not dock points. Impress her with kindness or whatever it was that Gryffindors appreciated in men. Instead I wanted to let the conversation going for just that bit longer. It was what usually got me in trouble. This desire of mine tended to lead to her snarling in some way or other.

Instead I imagine what it would be like if I wrapped an arm around her waist and kissed her, in this quiet corner of the library. The fantasy unravelled in my head. Tonight that fantasy would keep my hand busy and my dick more interested than anything Pansy could do stark naked.

Granger sighed. "It's really not some juicy story that you can spread to humiliate us so can you just walk away for tonight?"

I resisted the urge to step backward. A civil conversation was too unexpected for my poor heart to handle. I couldn't enjoy it; not when she sounded so defeated. It sounded so unexpected and terrible.

"Is something – wrong?" I asked, not even needing to layer my tone with concern; it already dripped with it. This is what she did. She made me _care_.

Granger glanced at me suspiciously and sighed. Her eyes screened the titles of the other books with practise swiftness. "Nothing really." She turned to me, and her eyes sparked with some emotion I couldn't understand and one that would haunt me for the years to come. "I just thought sex was supposed to be fun."

Before I could react she slipped past me and through the entrance of the library.

* * *

 **Granger's POV - Men enjoyed destroying the pieces of my heart I entrusted them with.**

* * *

I settled at the breakfast table in front of Ron and Harry. It was almost 10 am on a Saturday so, even though most of the food was gone, there were still students bustling about. Ron refused to look at me. I tried not to feel angry or ashamed or frustrated with his treatment. My eyes prickled suspiciously.

"What is the matter with you two?" Harry demanded suddenly, making Ron glare at him. After all, Harry's policy tended to be exasperated but neutral. He tended to leave us to it when it came to our train-wreck relationship.

"Nothing," Ron mumbled into his pumpkin juice.

"Fine, don't tell. Ruin our friendship. I don't care anymore." He threw down his napkin and with one last glare at the both of us, he walked away.

I stared at his back in mild surprise. He wasn't really prone to dramatic displays like that. Unfortunately, Malfoy and his crew were walking in at the same time. I glanced away without a blush but not before the blond flashed a quick grin that had my head puzzled and my abdomen fluttering.

"It's not us. He had a fight with Ginny last night," Ron said, subdued. It was familiar and yet bizarre to see that quiet, sad smile on his usually grinning freckled face.

"Can we talk?" I asked.

Ron nodded and glanced at the large grandfather clock. "Come on. It's sunny out, let's go by the Lake." He swiped two muffins from the table, shoving them in his pockets. I followed after him and refused to sneak a peek at the Slytherin table.

He was an unnecessary complication.

"I'm sorry," Ron blurted out as soon as we had reached relative privacy. The leaves left fluttering shadows and a chillness pre-empting the coming winter. Ron took one look at me and threw his coat onto my shoulder. It was heavy and warm and smelled like him. The tears really were threatening to spill over now.

"It's ok. I just don't know what happened," I said.

Us dating hadn't changed the frequency of our fights. I had expected us to be more like our usual self – him ruthless in his defensiveness, and me vicious in my sensitiveness. Instead we were both too exhausted and defeated.

"Me neither," he said although I could hear a false cheer in his voice. It was starting to grate on my nerves.

"Ron," I warned. "Just tell me. I – " I hesitated, then blurted the words neither of us had said in the few weeks since we had started dating at the start of our 7th year. "I love you."

He whipped around to face me and he looked pained. "I just don't think – I think I need – "

He was going to dump me. I could feel it. He stumbled over the words and I refused to help him. Dump me, fine. But don't be a coward about it.

"I need space," Ron choked out. "I can't do this anymore."

I've known it was coming since last night but crap. It still bloody hurt.

"Why?" I asked, throwing the coat back into his chest. It was cold but I didn't care. It only reminded me of what I was about to lose. "I thought we were good." _Until last night_. "Was it too soon? I thought sex was all guys thought about," I joked but it fell flat as Ron stared down at his shoes.

"You'll find someone better," he said in a whisper and I finally succumbed to the urge to hit him. The first landed on his arm, the next few on his chest as he twisted towards me.

"I want you," I snarled with such anger it didn't lend much credence to the statement. "But not if you don't have the guts to tell me the truth. What? Did you fall in love with someone else? Do you not find me attractive? Are you gay? I don't care. Whatever it is I'll accept it. I'll accept it more than this crap you're feeding me about deserving better. What a cop out."

When Ron just grabbed my wrists to shield himself but refused to offer an explanation. I just shook my head in disgust and climbed back up the hill, away from my best friend and the first person to chip away at my heart. Whoever said whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger was a liar. I survived my first heartbreak and I didn't feel stronger.

* * *

It took days before I could sit next to Ron again. Poor Harry was sitting in no-man's land and looking miserable as he did.

Ron still refused to talk to me. As though somehow I was responsible for the disaster that had befallen our friendship. The bell rang as Defense against the Dark Arts ended, and I grabbed my books without bothering to pack them in my bag to escape the stifling room.

The library was a welcome haven.

If only Malfoy hadn't decided to grace me with his presence. I pointedly turned away but he still settled in front of me. Only Miss Pince was in attendance and with the way my table was tucked away, no one could see us. I thought it would give me much needed privacy. I was wrong.

"Yes?" I asked when he refused to move.

"You're right," he said, looking down at the notes I had spread out. He didn't seem particularly interested in keeping track of the conversation.

"I usually am," I joked, the words slipping out. In the first few years at Hogwarts I had learnt not to tell your jokes. It tended to backfire or fall flat. Most people just thought I was arrogant or a moron. Neither were images I wanted to perpetuate.

He smiled. It was curious. Twice now, I had seen that little curl of his mouth that portrayed pure joy instead of the mixture of emotions his face usually depicted – most rather malicious.

He glanced up. "Sex is supposed to be fun."

I blinked. "Oh." I scratched my brain and remembered our night-time encounter that was fuzzy with everything else that had happened in those few days. "Oh, don't worry about that. I was just being dramatic and philosophical."

"There's nothing philosophical about it. You're supposed to enjoy sex. When done right, it's marvellous."

I really wished he would stop saying sex. It sounded horrifyingly wonderfully dirty coming out of his elitist mouth.

"Doesn't matter anymore anyway, he dumped me," I muttered and clamped my mouth shut with an instinctive hand.

"The whole school heard about your breakup. I think Slytherins are responsible for most of the rumours about the exact details of what happened."

"They probably know more than I do." My mouth really was getting away with me. Malfoy seemed like the last choice on earth for emotional diarrhoea but between him and Ginny or Harry, he was a Pope in a confession booth.

"Anyway," he said, still leaning forwards, much too closely. "Of course it matters. It's not like Ron's the only one you'll ever sleep with."

I dropped my head towards my books. Ugh. Those words coming out of someone beautiful who had enjoyed mocking me from the clothes I wore to the blood running through my veins, sounded so fake.

"Why, you offering?" I asked with exasperation. Hopefully he'll be horrified with tainting his perfect Pureblood penis and will stop bothering me. I couldn't have someone wanting to listen to my problems. It would implode in my face, I just knew it.

He reached out a pale finger to lightly touch my chin. I tipped my face up with surprise. Malfoy grinned. "Yes."

* * *

 **A/N What do you guys think? Just a little prologue to what'll be a multi-chapter but with short chapters most likely because I don't have the patience. Review if you have time. I'm mostly concerned with characterisation and of course whether it's interesting.**

 **Thanks.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N So my plan was to update once a week on Saturday, but clearly... Anyway enjoy.**

* * *

 **Malfoy's POV – Slytherins are a heartless lot.**

* * *

The door to my dorm room slammed shut behind me and Blaise looked up from his perusal of a Quidditch magazine. He quirked an eyebrow at my general state of disarray. The rush back to my room had my cheeks red and my hair flopping over my brow.

"Where's the fire?" he asked. As much as I appreciated his company, Blaise thrived on other people's misery. He wasn't good with the advice.

"Didn't think you'd be here," I said dropping my robes into the empty chair.

"Rushing back to the bedroom on a Saturday afternoon? If I didn't know you better I'd think you wanted to jerk one off in peace," Zabini said in his usual mocking tone, getting back to his magazine.

I hummed non-conclusively, turning my back to him. I tried not to flush. Offering my sexual services to Granger and not getting outright rejecting was twisting my fantasies into the realms of possibility and I had to take advantage of this hope before she hunted me down with the apologetic truth. The tip of my finger still twitched at the soft warmth of her chin.

"I'm right, aren't I? I totally am." Zabini said with a laugh. He was gloating, the bastard.

"Well unlike some people I don't offer my dick to every desperate man and woman at Hogwarts." I retorted, defensive.

He raised his hands in supplication but his shit-eating grin gave him away. He would torture me with this for awhile, especially with the way I've been ribbing him about the revolving door to his bed.

"I'm not judging, we all do it. To be honest, with the way Pansy's been talking about you, I thought you were asexual."

I paused. My brain caught up to the little tidbit of information that had my dick softening so fast I was afraid it would fall off. Before Zabini could escape I slammed my hand on the door. "Pansy said _what_?"

Zabini raised an eyebrow at the hand and I removed it before he ripped it off. He was touchy. It came with being an elitist Pureblood snob.

"Just that you were carrying a broken wand," he glanced very obviously at my crotch.

My mouth dropped open in such outrage, Zabini replaced his smirk with outright laughter.

"How long have you been sitting on that information?" I asked, with half a mind to hunt down that _lying_ cunt.

"Awhile," he said cryptically.

"You know she's a liar right?" I demanded. My mind flew to the images of all my housemates and the rest of Hogwarts. God, how long had she been spreading that rumour around? "My dick works fine. It's just not interested in her."

Blaise snorted. "Don't worry about it. She's pretty, but her personality would turn any bloke limp. She's good at sucking dick though. Just close your eyes and fantasise about someone else."

I was too taken aback but the recent rush of information to respond with that with anything but a moue of disgust. "I don't want to know how you know that. Fucking traumatising."

"Please. You're the one who dated her for 2 years. I just let her suck me off for – "

"Argh," I winced. "Stop talking."

"Do you still want me to leave or has your dick lost complete interest?" he asked, smirking.

I rolled my eyes but he was right. The little fantasy that had formed while rushing down the stairs to the dorms had disappeared into the chiasm of Pansy's sex life and Blaise's insistence on to referring to my dick as a third person.

I lay down on the bed, throwing an arm over my eyes. "I hate my life sometimes."

"There are worse things," Blaise said simply. He slipped into his shoes at the foot of the bed. "Anyway weren't you at the library? What the hell would get you hard in there?"

Granger. Hermione. Hermione Jean Granger. The faint freckles that I had never noticed until today, sitting so close to her. The tumbling curls that hid the most exquisite face. The brown eyes that held so much pride and delightful genius. For years I had been the only one to notice. Knowing that I recognised her beauty when no one else did, had made me feel so close to her. Of course, talking about sex with her was on a whole other level of brilliance.

I couldn't tell Blaise that. He wouldn't understand. I barely understood it myself.

"You'd be surprised," I said.

He snorted. "You get that the only other person who'd get turned on by the library is Granger right?" My heart squeezed tight, even as I left my face blank of emotions. Zabini distractedly rolled up the Quidditch magazine and shoved it under his arm. "You two are way more alike than any Pureblood and Mudblood ever should be." He continued. He gave me a knowing grin before walking out.

I shut the curtains, resisting the urge to throw my pillow at him. His chuckle was cut off by the door closing shut.

I let out a frustrated sigh. Looking up at the ceiling, I could see the faint edges of initials carved, most of them crudely with the tip of a knife. I wondered how many other Purebloods had passed through these dorms, thinking of muggleborns as they stared up at the same ceiling.

I wondered if they had all forgotten what it was like to be in love for the first time. Not that, I was in love. But still. Some of them must have been. Did they conveniently disregard those feelings when they went on their murderous rampages?

We were a heartless lot.

* * *

 **Granger's POV – To think that Hippogriff's urine brought Malfoy and I closer together.**

* * *

I resisted the urge to touch my chin. The brief touch had been electrifying. It didn't make sense that I could still feel it, almost a week later.

I jumped at the knock on my door. My roommates were out, enjoying dates or whatever it was they did when they disappeared for hours, so I was alone. Not expecting company, I got up to open the door myself.

"Hullo," Ginny greeted, coming in and settling onto my bed. It was unmade and I reached out to at least flatten the duvet.

"Where's Harry?" I asked, sitting next to her.

She gave me a dirty look. "Just because we started dating, it doesn't mean we have to do everything together. Anyway I've missed talking to you."

"Oh," I said, silently appreciating her concern.

"Don't look too excited. So what happened with you and Ron?" she asked.

"So you're just being nosy?" I asked drily.

She grinned. "Being a good friend. Same difference."

I couldn't formulate an explanation. The brain I had always been so proud of was scattered, overwhelmed with the churning emotions in my heart. Ron – the boy who was supposed to be my soul-mate, my future husband, the father of my children – had shut me out. I was more frustrated than angry. I knew him so well. He was a mixture of contradictions. He could be cruel and yet loved excessively, he was thoughtless and still emotively caring.

"He's my best friend. I assumed that he thought enough of me that if something was bothering him, he would be able to trust me with it." My voice broke. Admitting that he didn't trust me hurt more than the thought that I wasn't good enough for him.

Ginny's cheerful demeanour dropped. She threw her arms around my shoulder, squeezing in a semblance of a hug. I leaned into it.

"Don't give up on him," she said quietly. "I know it's hard on you, I _know_ that. But trust me, it's harder on him."

At that, I pulled back out of her grasp. I stiffened with anger. "How is this harder on him?" I snapped. "Don't try to tell me to understand what he's going through. I don't. Because he won't _tell_ me. I'm not even asking for an apology, just an explanation. We're supposed to be friends."

When Ginny only gave me this pitying but determined frown, I knew that she _knew_. Somehow, she knew what was bothering Ron.

"Oh, ugh," I said. I could feel resentment surging to tumble over the unexpecting younger girl. Her brother would come first. "I get it." I clenched my teeth, refusing to let this anger ruin what few friendships I had left. "I need to study."

"Seriously, Hermione," Ginny stood up, reaching out for me. "Just give him another chance."

I shrugged, flinching away from her hand. With a last glare – the only expression of anger I was willing to succumb to, I left heading for the library as a frightful mass of emotions.

It was sad how soothing I found the wide-arched Hall that housed several millennia of accumulated knowledge. The smell of ageing parchment, the crinkle of a page being turned over, the quiet of solitude: I breathed it all in and let it settle me. Finding my usual hidden corner, I stopped short at the blond already seated there, book open, hand on chin, gaze aimed at the Great Lake beyond the window.

I couldn't tell him it was my table. Just because I had de-facto claimed it by sitting there on an almost daily basis, it didn't actually make the table mine. Anyway, how childish would it sound to start a fight based on seating arrangements?

"Oh," he said turning his gaze towards me just as I had made the decision to walk away. "Hello. Please, feel free to sit," he gestured at the empty seat in front of him.

I hesitated. "Not sure that would be a good idea. I want to be alone," I admitted, surprised with my honesty. Most of my friends misunderstand solitude with loneliness, so I tended to hide the fact under a veneer of study fever.

"We can be alone together," he said, cocking his brow to the seat.

This odd camaraderie should have been jarring but instead I found it soothing. As promised he was quietly contemplating the view outside, his gaze dropping every so often to the book in front of him. I tried not to remember our last conversation at this table which involved me throwing myself at him for pity sex. It made my skin crawl with embarrassment. At least he wasn't bringing it up.

Instead I focused on the book in front of me discussing different species of Hippogriffs and the medical use of their urine in contraceptive potions. Soon I was too engrossed to notice the Slytherin in front of me. By the time I was flicking through to the references at the back, the sun had dropped, casting a macabre orange timbre to the night. I only blinked with awareness when the lamps turned on in response to the settling dark.

I looked up and blushed when I noticed Malfoy staring at me. He smiled. "Interesting?" he asked.

"Yes, very," I said staunchly.

He reached out to flip to the cover of the book to read the title. He raised a brow. "Oh do tell."

"It's this new research they came out with, using the oestrogen in the urine of pregnant Hippogriffs by mixing it with a stabiliser in the potion to create a contraceptive. It's only theoretical still, but the authors see it being more effective than the contraceptive spell which is caster-dependant," my voice rose with my excitement at what all this meant. "This is revolutionary for women. Instead of being dependant on some spell cast in the heat of the moment, they can control when and how many times they get pregnant. This will makes such a difference in empowering women." I flicked through to the last page, wondering whether they had any more information.

"Have they already started applying this to produce a marketable potion?" he asked, not recoiling in disgust at my fervour.

I smiled, gratified. As much as I refused to apologise for my enthusiasm, it could be grating when my friends didn't care. Point in case: SPEW.

"I don't think so," I said, my finger sliding over the page. "Oh," I said looking at the last few paragraphs. My disappointment fell onto the table with a sagging plop.

"'Due to lack of funding and interest, this project has been discontinued until further notice'," I quoted, reading out loud with something akin to horror. "How? This is huge! They're making potions curing male patterned baldness and Peyronie's disease and can't fund a potion that could affect _half_ the population?"

"Shhh" a voice silenced me from afar.

I leaned forward, sure I'd read it wrong but nope. I would ask Miss Prince to find me the newest research on the topic to see what was happening now in the Potions community. Textbooks tended to be out of date.

"It's to be expected," Malfoy said mildly. "After all, the Great Isles Potions Guild makes their decision based on Old-blood benefactors, and the majority of them have penises. Unfortunately."

I scoffed. I wanted to revolt at the unfairness but had a feeling that some of this frustration budded from the earlier conversation with Ginny.

"Typical. I wonder if I should write them a letter or protest in some way. They can't just sit on something like this. Withholding treatment is basically abuse." My voice was imbued with passion. "There must be something I can do."

"Make it yourself," Malfoy said casually. "We're all supposed to be finding a research topic for our Extended Enchantment Essay for our NEWTs anyway. If the school approves of it, you can get funding and everything. Plus it'll look good on your application for higher education."

I stared at him with my mouth parted. "I thought the triple E was supposed to dip our toe into research, not get involved in something so intense," I said drily but I was warming to the idea. If I could convince Headmistress McGonagall, then maybe I can do something useful in my final year instead of languishing, waiting for a war to destroy me.

"Come on, it won't be easy with the Board controlling funding but if we worked together we can get Professor Snape to supervise as well."

"Won't it look odd for us to suddenly work together?" I asked.

"InterHouse Cooperation," he grinned.

I frowned with worry, thinking of the repercussions. Not just to our social group. "What about your father and his associates?" I said carefully.

His eyes darkened although the grin kept his mouth curved. "A little rebellion never hurt anyone. Don't worry, I'll put a Slytherin spin to it."

* * *

 **A/N I will be updating once a week on Saturday (hopefully). The chapters will be short and sweet like this one. Hoped you liked it. Totally made up the Extended Enchantment Essay thing.**

 **How are you enjoying the budding relationship between Malfoy and Granger?**

 **Please review if you have the time, thanks.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N Disclaimer: Not mine, except the plot.**

* * *

 **Hermione's POV – I wouldn't let his rebellion ruin us all.**

* * *

The Hogwarts crowd exploded with outrage after Headmistress McGonagall's announcement that the Extended Enchantment Essay pairings would be chosen by the School instead of the individual. In the chaos of everyone jumping up to see their fated partner, I glanced at the head of Slytherin table. Malfoy was leaning back, chatting calmly. His cool grey eyes flickered over to me and I would have missed the corner of his mouth slipping into a knowing smirk if I hadn't been watching him so closely. Unfortunately, in avoiding his gaze, I looked sideways straight into the dark pitless eyes of Blaise Zabini. His frown was not reassuring.

My heart pitter-pattered uncomfortably in my chest. It was not the same airless feeling I got around the blond Slytherin. Instead it was an emotion soaked with fear. I wasn't naïve enough to believe that my relationship with Malfoy was anything beyond cordial acquaintances. However he didn't send tendrils of mistrust shooting off to the very tip of my toes. The gorgeous black-skinned stranger beside him did.

Malfoy was wrong. Rebellion could hurt. I would have to make sure it wouldn't ruin us both.

The parchment with the pairings made its way to me and I glanced at my name. Next to it, in clear black ink, I saw Draco Malfoy's name and House. The outrage from Ron was palpable, especially on my behalf.

"You must be joking," Ron announced, when I simply stared blankly. Mostly I was confused as to how he had pulled that off. I hoped it came off as shock. "Hermione, you've got to complain."

"No," I said. When even Harry turned to frown in confusion I made up some excuse on the fly. "Part of the project is marked off groupwork, I refuse to be marked down for something so trivial."

"Trivial?" Ron spluttered.

"It's not really any of your business," I said harshly. I didn't want to explain myself and I was still sore over the wreck of our friendship. I was tired of always being the one with the olive branch.

"Let it go," Harry mumbled to him. Even he could see how I was one wrong comment away from throwing a hissy fit. Maybe it was my time of the month. Either way I wasn't feeling forgiving. I slung my bag over my shoulder and walked away from them, ignoring the mutter I left in my wake. Perhaps antagonising my friends over Malfoy was not the best idea.

But in the last few days he had been a better friend than they.

This proved to be true when Malfoy found me in the library a few hours later. My charming Gryffindor, loyal friends hadn't bothered. I ignored the twinge in my chest at that.

"Hi," he said, settling into his seat. When had it become his seat? He dropped a textbook on Potions making on the desk.

"How did you pull that off?" I demanded.

"We got lucky?" he questioned. "Who cares as long as we can work on the project together." He smiled innocently.

I glared suspiciously.

"Anyway, I've been looking through the criterion for this assignment," he said. "It's mostly about the essay writing, rather than the Potion itself, but if we get a decent Potion we can think of publishing our work. I think it's worth aiming for that, even if it'll mean extra work for the next 6 months or more."

I nodded in agreement. "We can always continue working the Potion after the deadline as long as we hand in the essay portion."

I could see Malfoy trying not to smile. I ignored it, instead listening to his soft voice pitched low for the sake of the other inhabitants of the library. It was melodious in the way of the French. I remember the gently waves of the language from my holiday in France.

"Do you speak French?" I interrupted.

He paused midsentence, clearly needing to regroup.

My face warmed. "Sorry."

He laughed, though he still seemed confused. "Yes? I spend most of my summers in our chateau in Brittany. I think Mother is one of those rare people who actually like British weather." He rolled his eyes although his voice was fond. "Father refuses to go down there, says he might as well stay in Britain to be rained on."

"I went to the South of France once," I said. It seemed inadequate compared to how much he must travel with the money that poured out of his bank vault. "I'd return there for the food. It was," _orgasmic_ , I wanted to stay. "Really good," I finished lamely. "Anyway, sorry I didn't mean to interrupt, continue."

Inwardly I cringed with my awkwardness. Clearly, my time in the library had crippled my social skills. What was wrong with me? I've never blushed so much in my life. Thankfully, Malfoy continued with his thoughts on the project and I forced myself to focus on that instead of foolish things like his voice.

After a few hours, I could tell my brain was refusing to think about Potions. Instead it kept forcing Malfoy on me. I was so preoccupied with focusing on anything but the demonic blond, that when he called my attention, I yelped in shock.

"Sorry, I just found something interesting here."

I bit into my lower lip, getting up to his side to read the passage. "It's good." I settled into the seat next to him to scribble the passage onto the parchment. "We could work off of this."

The warmth of his arm when he reached out to turn the page was messing with my head. It reminded me of the sex conversation, and his soft touch and how wonderful it would be to drown myself into the unrealistic fantasy of being with this man. It wouldn't last. It would probably hurt. It would definitely be a horrible idea.

Still, how wonderful would it be to kiss him?

I looked at him, and he was frowning right back at me. The first part of my name _Herm_ seemed to slip out of his lips in a confused whisper.

Without thinking things too deeply, I leaned forwards just close enough so that our foreheads were a breath apart, our noses gently brushing against each other. His were unexpectedly cold.

I couldn't move that extra inch forward. Malfoy was brave enough.

He closed the space to press his lips against mine in a soft kiss, his mouth angled, catching my upper lip ever so slightly, parted. It lasted barely a few seconds. He pulled back, catching my gaze with a questioning tilt of his brow.

I shook my head and leaned forwards to take his mouth into a deeper kiss. My heart was in my throat, I couldn't breathe, my eyes were shut so tightly I could see sparks of light behind my lid and yet all I could focus on were the soft lips parting mine gently to slip his tongue to caress the inside of my mouth. His sigh was warm on face and the shock of doing this, with this man, in this place, was drowned out by how wonderful it felt.

When he broke the kiss to lean his forehead against mine, I noticed that I was sitting on the very edge of my seat, and my hands had slipped through the opening in his green robes to clench his pressed shirt. My face was flushed, my hair tumbling out of its band from his fingers, my breath coming out in quiet gasps.

For the first time, Malfoy didn't seem to know what to say. I jumped in before he could start talking about this being a 'bad idea', before he said we shouldn't do it again. He'd be right, and I yet I wanted to do it again. I felt completely unlike myself, and loved the feeling.

"It's just kissing right?" I asked, my voice still a little breathless. "Just sex. No big deal, no meaning. Just fun."

Malfoy's mouth tightened and for the first time in the past few days, he seemed to revert to the angry bully. Before I could take it back, he grabbed my chin and placed another bruising kiss on my lips.

"Sure. Just sex." He loosened his grip on my chin.

I opened my mouth to say something, anything but I was confused by his reaction. Before I could, Miss Pince announced the closure of the library.

Malfoy dropped another fleeting kiss on my parted lips. "See you next week," he said before slipping away. I watched his back until it disappeared from view.

I needed something meaningless, fun. He had practically assured me he wanted to provide that. So why did he seem so upset?

* * *

 **Malfoy's POV – Malfoy's were fucking greedy.**

* * *

She kissed me. We kissed. In the library, but still. Of course she had to be rational about the whole thing before I had even caught my breath. I wasn't allowed to be frustrated and disappointed by that. It's not as though I didn't know about casual sex, I spent all my life insisting upon it with the women I had dated. It didn't stop me from wanting more with her.

Malfoy's were fucking greedy. We always wanted more.

When I walked into the Slytherin Common Room, the place was in uproar. Only the complete chaos that came with an explosive fight among my housemates could distract me from the last hour of my life.

"What the hell?" I swore, glancing at the stairs that led down to the rooms wondering if I could sneak down without anyone noticing.

"Draco," Pansy shouted. No, such luck. I turned towards her, the first woman I had ever dated and couldn't even muster a sliver of fuck. Then I noticed who she was fighting with. I was surprised to see a snarling, pissed off Blaise. I'd never seen him so outwardly angry in my life. He was more the type to slit your throat while you slept with a smile on his face.

Yet his eyes were completely dead as he stared at Pansy.

"What is going on?" I asked bewildered and concerned. These two were friends. Seeing the curious crowd forming and hearing the mutter of spreading malicious gossip, I snapped. "Room, now."

I dragged the pair into our room. Theo, Crabbe and Goyle were in there. I quickly kicked them out. I couldn't enjoy the power high while my closest friends were seconds away from tearing each other's eyes out. Slytherins were brutal.

Hands raised, I stood between the pair.

"How dare you?" Pansy shouted. I threw up a silencing spell. Blaise crossed his arms over his chest and didn't seem forthcoming. "You obliviated me," she shrieked.

My eyes widened in surprise, flicking to Blaise who didn't refute her statement.

"Blaise," I started.

"Stay out of it," he snapped. I quietened. His body shook with barely contained anger and I didn't want to push him. Pansy didn't seem to get the memo.

"It's fucking illegal!" she said. She rarely swore in front of me – probably some misconception about lady like behaviour. Clearly this needed the adage. "I could have you thrown in Azkaban."

It was a slight exaggeration but oblivating a minor and a pureblood was definitely an act that could lead to prosecution and arrest.

"Then do it, I don't care. You shouldn't have been there."

"So I was curious, big deal. Who the hell are you dating anyway?" she asked.

"Woah," I asked. "What?"

Pansy barely glanced at me even as she answered, scathing. "This guy has been in a relationship. So, I just wanted to know who it was, I didn't deserve to be oblivated for it. Tell me you haven't noticed that he hasn't even _looked_ at anyone in Slytherin for months now."

I hadn't noticed, no. Clearly I was too wrapped up in my own crap.

"You're dating?" I asked, although my voice was drowned out by Blaise's response.

"It's none of your business," Blaise snapped, his voice low and lethal.

"You _obliviated_ me, you dipshit. What is the matter with you?"

"Just because you're a cold hearted cunt no one wants to fuck – ," he was interrupted by the flying fist to his face. I probably could have stopped it, but the bloke deserved it, let's be honest.

Pansy's eyes narrowed, the hurt darkening them. She clenched her hand to her chest. Blaise just rubbed his chin, his face upturned by the velocity of the punch. It was a good one.

Neither looked like they were going to apologise, but the punch seemed to have calmed them some.

"So, what," she asked. "You're in love?"

He shrugged. "What if I was?"

I couldn't believe it. Pansy seemed to swallow the information with more acceptance, because all I could see was ruthless man-whore Blaise. He was my best friend, but he wasn't exactly known for being warm and cuddly, or emotional in any way.

In fact, I'd spent most of my life knowing he'd be a better Death Eater than I could ever aspire to be. Something that used to piss me off until I grew up to the horror of it all.

"I still can't believe you obliviated me," she muttered. "You get that you've just made me insanely curious, right? Is it someone embarrassing? Do they have warts everywhere, and fingers growing out of their head?"

That was Pansy's way of apologising, Blaise could see that too. It was likely the only reason he didn't push on letting this whole thing go.

He rolled his eyes. "You wish."

"Come on, give me something."

"Nope."

"Oh god is it worse than loads of fingers everywhere? Is it a mudblood?" she asked scandalised.

He snorted. "Of course not."

Well. Glad to see my friends had their priorities sorted. That was clearly the cut-off when it came to acceptable dating. Why am I surprised? I'd have to make sure Pansy didn't start sniffing for secrets or I'd have to guard Granger with more viciousness than Blaise could ever dream of.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry for calling you a cold hearted cunt," he said.

"Eh, I'm a Slytherin, I'll take it as a compliment."

I rolled my eyes. "I have weird friends."

"Oh please, you're so much weirder," Pansy said. "Like I don't notice you sneaking off to the library?"

I paused.

"Hah," she exclaimed.

"Just get out," I huffed at Pansy.

"If he tells you who it is, tell me," she whispered to me. Blaise just gave her the finger as she closed the door on herself with a laugh.

"For fuck's sake," Blaise said, throwing himself on his bed.

"You might as well tell her, she's like a dog with a bone." I told him. It was genuine advice but also I wanted to shift the attention away from myself. I'd really have to be more careful with her around.

"I'll tell her when you tell her yours," he said with syrupy sweetness that jabbed at my spine. "How is Granger these days?"

I froze.

 _Fuck_.

"What are you talking about?" My voice sounded odd in my head, there was an odd ringing in my ears.

"Nothing, just asking a question," he continued with innocence yet his eyes were sharp as he gauged my reaction.

"Why would I know how she is? What kind of stupid question is that?" I sounded shrill. When did I become such a horrible liar?

"Draco," Blaise said with a huffing laugh, "I honestly don't care, I mean I don't know what you see in her, but who you fuck is no one's business."

I flopped down on my bed, all the energy was sapped from my limbs. The adrenaline whooshing out of my system with the relief of such a mild reaction was a knock of exhaustion over my head.

"Although some people will make it their business – ( _your father, went unsaid_ ) – so I'd prepare a better lie the next time you get confronted about it. You're unexpectedly obvious when it comes to Granger."

"Really?" I asked genuinely. After all, I had spent years half-in-love with her and no one seemed to have noticed, not even Pansy who was famous for sniffing out these types of secrets.

Blaise shrugged, flicking through that Quidditch magazine again. For a moment I wondered what he found so obsessively interesting in that particular volume, but I let it go. "Well maybe it's because we're housemates. I didn't think anything was coming out of that ridiculous crush of yours, but then you went and orchestrated the pairings for the triple 'E'. Moron."

"Oh, that. It was a coincidence."

Blaise gave me a filthy look.

"Or not. You really don't care?"

"I can't really judge, trust me." He snorted.

I wanted to get assurance that he'd keep his mouth shut on this matter but I knew it wouldn't make a difference. Blaise never kept his promises anyway, and insisting on it would only irritate him. I clenched my hands in the cover of my unmade hands, looking up at the ceiling.

I needed to talk to Granger. My abdomen clenched with excitement.

My eyes narrowed, curious. If I could figure out who Blaise was enamoured with, it would give him an incentive to keep our dirty laundry in the closet.

I needed to talk to Pansy too. I was less excited by that prospect. Blaise gracefully heaved himself up, cracking his neck to one side. He looked satisfied at having caused a storm of dilemma in me.

"Date?" I asked, with that same air of innocence he had affected to piss me off.

He grimaced. The Quidditch magazine lay open on his bed. The blinding orange was notorious for one of the worst teams on the league.

"Since when are you a Chudley Cannon fan?" I asked while he shrugged into his robes.

He ran a hand over his head, readjusting his hair in the mirror. Straightening his collar, he headed for the door.

"I guess I'm discovering a certain charm to the underappreciated and overshadowed," he said cryptically.

I barely had time to ponder the sentence as the two trolls of Slytherin came barraging in, Theo only a few steps behind.

"I'm sorry you're stuck with a mudblood," Theo said.

I walked away.

* * *

 **A/N yes well.** **Review if you have time? I must admit I'm enjoying this story. Who would have thought I would start liking Pansy too?**

 **The first time I read through this, I had accidently typed "Blaise was interrupted by the flying fish to his face". I'm glad I caught that, lol.**


	4. Chapter 4

**WARNING!**

 **For people following this story, the last chapter was changed on 18/2/2017 – I added an extra scene at the end … please read that first.**

* * *

Rise Up – Chapter 4 Granger's POV

* * *

My lips still burned from the kiss in the library.

A couple hours later, I was doing my rounds of the castle to dock points from anyone out of their respective Houses at this time of night. Not having found anyone in an hour, I decided to head back to my dorms when a hand whipped out of the shadows to grab my elbow and slip me past an open door into an empty classroom.

"Wha – " I started before seeing the blond in front of me, his expression stormy. "Hello."

He smiled, his face smoothing of worry. "Hello."

"Wasn't expecting to see you until next Saturday," I said. "Miss me?"

"Yes." His lips came crashing down onto mine, his mouth hard.

I parted my lips under his, feeling his body press mine into the closed door. I lifted my head to break the kiss when my chest ached from lack of oxygen. His mouth simply slid downwards, kissing the stretch of my neck. I grabbed his robe, pulling his hip closer to mine and he gently bit my chin in response.

Normally I'd ask what was wrong. I'd want to know what brought this on. I'd settle into a very mature conversation. This time, I refused. Talking never seemed to lead to good things. Like this.

I tilted my head again to accept his kiss and enjoyed the way his hand slipped into the curls on my head, cupping my face.

I was panting, my head light. I knew I was probably making a mess out of this whole kissing thing because it had never felt like this with Ron. When the freckled face intruded my thoughts, now of all moments, I felt my body tingle with irritation and bravery.

Slipping one hand down his body, I cupped his erection through his pants.

He gasped, breaking the kiss to drop his forehead against mine. He didn't move to kiss me again.

I hesitated, my cold hand gently resting against his bulge. I didn't know what to do. Of course it was fast, we were moving ridiculously fast but it felt so brilliant and explosive and unlike anything else I had ever experienced I didn't want to let my analytical brain rationalise this.

 _Just sex, just sex, just sex_. Nothing more.

He stepped closer, until his body was crushing mine against the door, my hand wedged against his crotch. I couldn't move it without rubbing him. I blushed. He smiled.

He pressed a kiss against the tip of my ear.

"What are you doing?" he whispered.

"Kissing you?"

"With your hand?" he teased.

I dropped my voice to match his whispers. "I was going with the flow."

He chuckled, grabbing my wrist to move my hand – not away, just moving it against him.

Malfoy groaned. "Have you ever done this before?"

I squeezed his cock, enjoying the way he twitched towards me. "What are you asking stupid questions for?" I whispered, catching his mouth with mine. It was less a kiss and more a filthy snog.

I kept my hand moving, stroking him through the fabric of his trousers. No, I had never done this. I had never done anything except jump into bed for full-on vaginal penetration that had not been unpleasant but not fun or romantic either.

Watching Malfoy's mouth part with each breath, his arms on either side of my head, his eyes wide, pupils blown as he stared at me – this was _fun_.

I smirked, mimicking the expression he usually threw at me. He groaned, closing his eyes and practically collapsing into me. I let go of his dick to unfasten his belt and fly, just enough to slip my hand into his boxers. He shuddered as I wrapped my hand around him. I didn't look down at what I was doing even though I was curious to see what he looked liked – was he different from Ron? Instead I enjoyed exploring him with my fingers while staring into his face, his expression almost pained.

I wanted to laugh. I wanted to cry.

He was hard in my hand, throbbing, hot and smooth. Going completely on instinct, raked my fingernail against the ridge of his head. He jerked.

Neither of us talked. I felt hot, like I was breathing in a furnace. Each breath choking.

Malfoy grabbed my hand, moving it up and down over his length, letting go as soon as I got a rhythm. He settled the same hand over my neck and I could smell him, and feel the sticky pre-cum on his hand on the back of my neck. It made my panties uncomfortably wet and my core twitch with arousal.

I wanted to squeeze my thighs shut and also open them wide to accommodate him.

We were still staring into each other's eyes as though we simply sharing a sweet kiss, not a dirty handjob.

"Hermione," he whispered, his voice rough.

My fingers were suddenly warm and wet.

I grimaced. He grimaced right back at me.

I sniggered, taking my hand out of his pants, my face warm and my expression filled with delight. Malfoy kissed me, grabbing my wrist and placing it over my head. I laughed into his mouth.

"This is insane," he said, wedging a leg between my thighs.

"Agreed," I panted. "My turn now."

He chuckled but accommodated my request by rubbing his thigh against my mound. The pressure was fantastic even with the burn from being rubbed through cotton underwear.

He placed another open-mouthed kiss against my neck, slipping a hand on one breast. He flicked at a nipple and I flinched.

"Harder," I gasped, not sure whether I was referring to his knee or his hand. He didn't seem to mind my indecision, making the executive choice of pinching my nipple through the robe. I took a sharp breath through my nose.

His finger slipped beneath my skirt, smoothing against my thighs before slipping under my panties to touch the seeping wetness there. My head fell backwards with a quiet thud.

"Mal – "

"Draco," he interrupted, his mouth leaving dark, wet marks where my pulse fluttered madly, vulnerably.

He circled my opening, not breaching but gently skimming the rim. It twitched under his fingers.

"You're so wet," he said, still circling maddeningly slow but with deliberate strokes of his fingers.

"Only for you," I gasped. The words were spilling out of my mouth, my brain closing its doors for the night. I felt his smile against my neck.

I felt my orgasm building, building, ready to crash. He pressed his thumb firmly over my clit, and I exploded under his touch.

"Oh." I breathed quietly, my eyes screwed tightly shut.

His fingers stilled. "Fuck."

When I caught my breath, I realised my eyes were still closed. I blinked the darkness away, noticing that Malfoy was staring at me, the tip of his tongue running against his lower lip.

"You have no idea how sexy you are," he said. It was a trite line, but he said it with such a wrecked voice, I couldn't help but be pleased.

My eyes dropped to the prominent bulge in his boxers, his trousers still undone, with my eyebrows raised. "I have some idea."

He laughed, grabbing me around the waist to kiss me, lifting me off my feet. I wrapped my arms around his neck, holding him tight. Only when our lips were slick and bruised, did my feet touch the ground again.

"I was thinking red clover or unicorn tail for the stabiliser in our potion," I said, staring at the ceiling. I shifted my head slightly to look at him.

"I'm not really thinking about the project right now," he chucked, head in the crook of my neck. We were basically hugging, it was unexpectedly sweet.

"We have to, we can't get – distracted like this or we'll never get it done."

"You don't think I have any self-control?"

"You might, but I don't," I said, blushing but defiantly honest. He was a distraction like no other. "So we must get stuff done after the, after."

"After what?" he leered.

"If it helps, research turns me on, so the sooner we get the work done, the sooner we can get back to it," I said.

He laughed.

"Ok, fine," he looked at his watch. "I'll keep that in mind for next time. I'm too orgasm-addled to function right now. It's one in the morning."

I pulled at my shirt, straightening it to decency. There was no denying what I had been up to but wanted to be presentable. When he puckered his lips I couldn't help but respond with a kiss.

Shoving him aside, I headed for the door. He grabbed my arm. "We need to be more careful."

"We have been. It's been one day." Only. It felt like a lifetime.

"Blaise knows."

My heart squeezed shut. The lethal, cruel friend who made my skin crawl. Of all people. "What? Is he – what does he want?"

"He doesn't want anything. Just, he knows. Don't worry, I do trust him to an extent and I'm close to ensuring mutually assured destruction when it comes to us. He's got a _friend_ on the side as well."

I frowned, pulling away.

"Don't," he said, pressing against me. "I know you're thinking it's too dangerous, but we just have to be more careful. I can't stop this, us. I'm being honest with you here. So please trust me." He looked at me with those clear, grey eyes and I couldn't say 'no'.

Still, the instinct that had allowed me to survive as the Saviour's best friend had my pores fill with uncomfortable wariness.

"This is worth it," he said.

I paused looking at his earnest expression. "Is it? Don't you have Slytherin girls willing to service you in the same way?"

Malfoy pulled away. "Is that what you want? Me being serviced by Slytherin girls?"

 _No_.

"I don't want things getting serious. So, making out in empty classrooms while working on our project, fine. But risking our lives for meaningless sex is just stupid."

 _You make me stupid, so please be rational here. I can't say no to you._

He let me go, dropping his eyes to the floor.

When he looked up, his smile was wide, his eyes hard. "You're right. That's why I'm saying we have to be more careful."

* * *

Malfoy's POV

* * *

I cursed to myself as Hermione left, my heart twisting from her brutal honesty. It felt like I always had all my cards showing while she maintained the most magnificent poker face.

She was the most dangerous creature I had ever encountered. Just imaging her pressed against me, her soft gasps in my ears, my fingers dipping through the seeping wetness soaking the curls on her pubis. I groaned, falling back against the wall, my dick hard.

I wanted her, so desperately, so dreadfully. She was right to be cautious. I could see more rationally without her in the room, knew that ending this before I fell completely would be the better idea. But with my fingers still warm and smelling of her, I couldn't even think about it.

The reality of exactly how much danger I was putting myself in came in the form of a letter a few days later.

The Dining Hall was alive with noise, and I was jostled while reading my father's careful script. The Dark Lord was requesting my presence.

The panic set in within half a second as I read over the order. It would be during the Hogsmeade weekend in a month time when we were less supervised and out of school bounds. I doubted 'working on a project with a muggleborn' would fly as an excuse not to show up.

"Blaise," I said, dragging him out of the Dining Hall and back to our rooms. Pansy looked up curiously but even she knew what a letter from my father meant.

"What is this?" I demanded as soon as the door closed behind us and I had erected a silencing spell.

Blaise didn't look at the letter. "I don't know, you tell me."

"This isn't the time for your fucking cryptic jokes. Did you tell someone about Granger?"

He scoffed, his mocking expression darkening his face. "Why would I?"

"I don't know. But it only took a couple days between you, confronting me about Granger, and this letter coming about Death Eater meetings. If I show up and they know…" I trailed off, not needing to end the sentence to express the horror of my father's dear friends knowing about my interest in a mudblood.

"Blaise." I was pleading. "Be serious."

He shrugged. "Not my business. I told you to be careful."

"Fuck you. Did you tell?"

"No."

"I don't believe you," I snarled, crunching up the letter in my hand. "If something happens to her…"

It would kill me.

Blaise looked pissed. "I didn't tell anyone. I'm," he paused taking a deep breath. "I get it. But if you're this serious about her in what, a couple weeks, months at most – " I didn't want to correct him – that it had literally been _days_. "Then you're in fucking danger Draco. It's not just some crush is it?"

"No," I whispered.

Blaise wasn't forgiving. "I didn't tell anyone, so fuck you for jumping to conclusions. See if I have your back at this meeting." He yanked his bedside table open and threw a letter in my face. "I was 'invited' too." He gave me a filthy glare. "The world doesn't revolve around you."

He shoved me aside, walking out of the room before I could catch up with him.

I congratulated myself on pissing off my only ally. And yet even with all this personal mess, all I wanted to do was run to Hermione, hold her in my arms, assure myself that she was real.

I curled up in bed, crippled, pathetic, weak. Hating myself. Hating her.

* * *

 **A/N Updates once a week**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N Sorry for the delay, exams and shit. Anyway, onwards.**

* * *

 **Granger's POV**

* * *

The potion bubbled and hissed. I was tempted to hiss right back at it. With the third attempt in just as many weeks, it became more apparent that no amount of red clover was going to stabilise it.

I shut off the heat, letting it cool before putting it in a vial. Important data if nothing else. I swiped a fume soaked bang out of my eyes.

"Still nothing, huh?" Malfoy said, standing close. He stared down at the Potion in distaste. We were both high achievers and this was failure of epic proportions. Perhaps spending half of our project time with my tongue in his mouth and his hand up my shirt wasn't helping. Maybe.

Barely a month ago I would have never have considered sacrificing my grade for a quick grope. Look at me now.

We had moved our weekly meet ups to Friday with the Hogsmeade expedition tomorrow. Malfoy was distracted. Come to think of it, so was I. Harry and Ginny were going on their first official date, leaving Ron and I on our own for the first extended period of time since the break-up. Hoping for a reconciliation, expecting a battle.

I missed him.

"Have you gotten any headway with Blaise's mystery person?" I asked, packing the newts eyes carefully. Damaging the ingredient would certainly put a damper on my grades. Malfoy handed me the container. In the month we've spent together, we had found an expansive number of topics that entertained and fascinated – as long as we stayed away from the mark on his arm and our House alliances.

He groaned in disgust. "No. Ever since he oblivated Pansy, he's been so tight-lipped. It's creepy how he never slips. Whoever it is likes the Cannons and is apparently a total loser."

I laughed. "He said he's in love with a loser?"

"Not in so many words," he smirked. "Can I ask you I question?"

"Sure, as long as I can retain the right not to answer." I stopped packing up the ingredients to look at him.

"It might be awkward."

"Just ask."

"You said sex with Ron wasn't fun," he said carefully.

"Ah." I looked down at my stained fingers. The ink seeping from chopped herbs seeped the ridges of my fingertips. "I suppose I did."

"I was wondering what you meant by that."

I rubbed my index and thumb together, trying to scrub the stain away. The question had to come up at some point and with Malfoy's impeccable timing, it had be the day before I dealt with Ron.

"It's going to sound like I'm whining and living in some fantasy land where sex is always this perfect, romantic thing," I started.

"It's been like with us so far," he pointed out. "Granted we've never actually had _sex_ sex."

I didn't know how to describe the experience so I took my time searching for the words. "It was like Ron was expecting more but was also scared of…" I didn't know what. I sighed. "We had sex and even though it wasn't exactly fireworks, it wasn't so terrible that I wanted to give up on us. I was a virgin, I read, I research, I was prepared for disappointment. I wasn't prepared for him panicking and walking out afterwards."

"He left?"

I nodded. "The sex itself wasn't the problem. Ron was struggling and fighting some internal battle the whole time. I didn't know how to help him." My voice cracked. "And then didn't want to help him because I deserved a better first time. And felt guilty for thinking that."

Before I finished my sentence, I had my head tucked against Malfoy's chest. "You did deserve better."

"I'm a really bad friend," I said my voice muffled in his expensive shirt.

"If you were, you wouldn't be feeling guilty about some errant feeling you were completely entitled to."

I pressed my head harder against his chest. He smelt of branded cologne Ron couldn't have afforded to sample.

Malfoy made me realise that I deserved better than the treatment Ron gave me, but also that we were so much better as friends. If I could make him see that tomorrow, I would be so grateful to this blond man who was a calm balm in my otherwise insane but lonely life.

"You have no idea how much I look forwards to our Saturdays," I said truthfully, head still hidden. I'm more independent and less alone when I'm with him. Realising it sounded like a weird love confession, I stepped away, adding. "Because of the sex."

 _Liar_. _You_ like _him._

He gave me an ornery smirk, with such filthy promise I convinced myself I had imagine the flash of disappointment flashing through his eyes.

"Let me give you incentive for next week then," he said, lifting me onto the counter and standing between my legs. I didn't want to tell him that I didn't need the incentive. Memories of his smile was enough. The thought scared me into kissing him, losing myself in the sensation of his tongue wrapping around mine, gliding across my parted mouth.

I hooked my legs around his thighs, plastering myself against his hard chest. In all these weeks, in all these delightful sessions we sent each other tumbling through orgasms, we had never seen each other completely naked.

I guess that's what it meant to have a meaningless affair in a hidden corner of an empty room. We didn't explore, we just chased the pleasurable high.

His fingers danced across my thighs, finding the warmth in between them with practised ease. I twitched forwards, letting go of his robe to press against the counter for leverage.

"More," I said hoarsely.

He stopped stroking my clit, to gently slip the tip of a finger inside, not even to the first knuckle. "Here?" he asked, teasing me with his fingers.

I let my head fall back. It smelled like rosemary, muted gas and the distinct musk of sex and Malfoy.

"Yes," I hissed.

He thrust two fingers in sharply, to the hilt, making my thighs quiver and my orgasm rush through me, soaking his fingers.

Malfoy blinked with surprise, then grinned with such self-satisfaction I rolled my eyes.

"What was that, 10 seconds?" he asked, gently thawing his fingers in and out of my wet opening.

"Shut up," I said, too tired to argue and also feeling like he earned the right to be smug. He slipped my skirt and underwear off, spreading my thighs wide. It snapped me out of my post-orgasm haze.

"Mal – ," I started.

"Trust me," he said, looking straight at me while sinking low enough that his face was right between my legs. I gave him a jerky nod, nervous. We'd – I'd never done this before.

As though sensing my sudden nerves, he pressed a gentle kiss on my inner thigh. His grey eyes stayed fixed on my gaze.

He bent forward, nosing the wet curls on my mound. He took a deep breath, grinning when I spasmed forward in shock.

"You smell so fucking good," he said and I twitched. His words not only sent a flood of heat between my thighs but his cool breath tickled my over-sensitive clit.

"Oh god."

He grinned – bastard knew exactly what he was doing to me. "The first time I touched you, I slept on my hand so I could smell you in my dreams."

"What – " I gasped when he flicked his tongue against my clit.

 _What were we doing in your dream?_ I wanted to ask but the question was lost when le licked my pussy with one broad stroke of his tongue from the wet opening to my quivering clit. He licked again, lapping at the wetness he found there.

I reached out to grab his hair. It was smooth and light and long enough to grasp in my tightly clenched fingers. He latched onto my clit, sucking and stroking it with the tip of his tongue. When I moaning gasp escaped my lips, he only sucked harder, with more purpose. He glanced up, his eyebrow quirked. I couldn't look away, just stare at those grey eyes and push his head even closer to all those sensitive nerve endings.

"I want you," I said, my words starting to slur nonsensically as Malfoy brought me to the brink of another orgasm. "I want you inside, your dick – you, fuck. Malfoy." My voice reached a pitch I didn't know my vocal cord could handle.

"My dick wants in too," he laughed, dipping his tongue into my eager opening. My breath hitched.

"Ah," I gasped. "Please."

Just when I was convinced he was going to make me beg some more, he slid two fingers inside me, curling to rub that perfect spot. I cried out, back arching, nipples tight, mouth dropping open in a silent scream. I gushed all over his mouth, his chin, my thighs clamped tight around his head.

My arms gave way.

Merlin. Malfoy.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Hmm," he hummed, pressing a kiss against the hollow of my throat, unbuckling his pants, sliding his dick out. Leant over me, I could press my own kiss against his soaked temple. He dropped his hand to tug at his rock hard, angry red, dick. "You make me crazy, Hermione," he whispered.

I lowered my hand to wrap my fingers against that furiously moving wrist. I sank down slightly, slowly his movements down and guiding the head of his dick to my clit. I glided his cock down the seam of my labia, coating myself with his pre-cum, him with the evidence of my arousal. We were both curled to watch that intimate place, our sweaty foreheads against each other.

"I need to come," he groaned.

I smirked, letting him go so that he could pick up his previous fast strokes. I raised myself enough just to tug my shirt up and my bra down, exposing myself to his hungry gaze.

"Fuck," he whispered, tugging faster, burying his face into my collarbone, looking down. I wrapped my arms around him and felt him tremble when he came, his hot spunk coating my vulnerable stomach and breasts.

He collapsed onto of me, dead weight. I tightened my hold on him.

I never wanted to let go.

* * *

It wasn't snowing but there was a crisp chill to the air. I shoved my hands deep into the pockets of my coat, wishing I had brought my gloves with me. I glanced sideways at Ronald who had half his face tucked into his scarf. I swear he was taller than I remembered. It couldn't have been that long since we've been together.

"Three Broomsticks?" he asked, jerking his head towards the ever popular pub. I nodded. It was already overflowing with students. The waft of warm air as we opened the door was a welcome sting to my cheeks.

"I'll go find us seats," I said as he went off to buy drinks, our usual order.

Finding a booth, I took off my coat with a relieved sigh. So far, so good. As long as our tempers didn't blow up. He returned with the drinks and we sat in silence interspersed with awkward small talk.

 _Maybe fighting it out would be easier_ , I thought despairingly as I sipped at my butterbeer.

The doorbell jingled and I looked up in instinct, cursing as Malfoy, Parkinson, Zabini and Nott walked in, finding seats at the other end of the pub but in our direct line of sight. I was torn between exasperation at our luck and elation seeing Parkinson glued to Zabini's side instead of Malfoy's. I didn't want to slag her off – even in my head – but she really was making her way through the Slytherin boys.

I watched as she gripped Zabini's arm, and kissed his cheek while Nott went to get drinks. Ron tensed besides me.

"Ignore them," I said, sensing an impending disaster. My eyes widened with shock as Ron vibrated with fury."Do you want to leave?" I asked, in panic.

"No," Ron snorted, an angry twist to his mouth. "Why should we leave because they're here?"

"Ok," I said slowly. I placed my hand on his trembling arm, too confused to reassure. Trying to distract him and also with the urge to complain about my project I started rambling about the triple 'E'. "It's going terribly," I stated. "I thought it would be such a good idea to combine the red clover as a stabiliser but it's not working. I've tried dosage, timing, frequency. Maybe it's just not the right ingredient."

Ron nodded, nursing his drink. He listened with an intensity I wasn't used to, but could tell it was more in an attempt to ignore the Slytherin table than any interest in the topic. My eyes flickered to them uncertainly. Did they do something – a rude hand gesture or something – that I missed? What had Ron so enraged?

"Try something else for now, before you lose faith in the entire project," he offered.

I nodded. I doubted I would lose faith in it, not with the partner I had. Unable to resist, I asked. "Are you ok?"

"Yes, don't worry. It was just the shock of seeing them here. Don't you hate working with Malfoy, honestly?"

"No," I said. "Not really." I continued in a rush. "He needs a good grade for his father ( _Ron snorted scathingly_ ) so he won't sabotage the project. And we think differently so I think Headmistress McGonagall made the right choice with the pairing."

His father had come up several times in our conversations and it reverted Malfoy back into a boy desperate for approval. As much as he pretended otherwise. It hurt to know that someone with such a deep capacity for evil had the most powerful influence on him.

I could tell Ron didn't really believe me and I had a sudden urge to prove him wrong, to show him that Malfoy could be a perfectly pleasant human being. "When he's not surrounded by his cronies, he's not so bad. It's not like he has anything to prove to me."

Ron made a face.

I clenched my hands around the drink. "You think I'm lying? Why would I lie about him being a decent person?"

Ron's blue eyes widened at my outburst, but he didn't back down from the argument. "I do think he has something to prove to you."

That statement deflated my anger quickly. "What do you mean?"

"And you call me oblivious," Ron snorted. "He's obsessed with you; I don't like it."

"Eh?"

I had been reduced to shocked monosyllables. What was Ron on about? Apart from a few cruel remarks and a punch to the face, Malfoy and I had pretty much gone our separate ways. Until now.

"I wasn't the only one who started hating Viktor Krum in 4th year," Ron said simply. He glanced back at the Slytherin table as the 4 occupants stood back up, their drinks empty.

With the way Malfoy's eyes kept twitching to the clock, his fingers playing with the leather gloves in his hands, I could tell he was a nervous wreck. The others were coolly gathering their affairs but I didn't know them well enough to identify a façade.

I remembered how distracted he was yesterday and hoped he wasn't getting embroiled in anything too dangerous.

* * *

 **Malfoy's POV.**

* * *

Seeing Hermione and Ron sitting with barely an inch of space between them had my head pulsating with anger and jealousy. Even if she loved me, we wouldn't be able to sit that close in public without bringing the terror of Malfoy ancestors upon our head.

Blaise gave me a cool look. Even though they were generally inexpressive I could read the meaning behind them – 'don't get distracted. Not today.'

I gave him a sharp nod, grabbing the drink Nott handed me.

"What are you doing?" I asked Pansy instead who was slobbering all over Blaise.

"Hoping Blaise's lover'll pop out of the crowd in a blind fit of rage," she said and placed another distracted kiss on his cheek, her keen eye on the occupants of the pub.

I raised a thin, translucent brow at my best friend. He just snorted. "Not going to happen, Pans."

"Because he's not here or because he's not the jealous type?"

"Wait, when did we figure out it was a guy?" I asked.

Everyone at the table gave me a deadpanned look.

"We figured that out ages ago, do keep up," Pansy said. "Anyway answer me."

"Nope," Blaise said, disentangling himself from her embrace. She huffed.

"Come on, it'll be a good distraction from what's about to happen." A silence dropped on our table, with everyone catching a horrified breath.

She dropped her hands into her lap. "Are we not going to talk about it?"

"No," Blaise said.

"But – "

"No."

I brought my drink to my lips catching Nott's eyes who was trying so hard to stay out of the tense disagreement that his chair was threatening to topple over.

"How did we get from Blaise's crush to this?" I asked as the pair glared at each other. Blaise's voice rang such finality that even Pansy couldn't really argue. It was the kind of authority I've always dreamt of possessing but struggled with. Malfoys were leaders. Even with someone like Blaise nipping at their heels with born charisma.

My arm burned.

So there really was a meeting today. It was sooner than expected but perhaps better than delaying the inevitable. Still, my heart jumped into my throat, throbbing madly against my jugular. I hissed and Pansy – with her unsubtle ways – dropped her gaze to my arm. Blaise had the common sense to simply empty his drink and stand.

It was going to be a long, dark day.

* * *

 **A/N How's the story so far? The one thing I would hate is a boring story. So hope not.**


End file.
